Worry

Worrying does not rob tomorrow of its troubles; it robs today of its strengths. Corrie Ten Boom

I worry too much. I admit it. I worry about what people think of me, then I worry that they don't think of me at all. I worry about things that might go wrong, then I worry about things that might go right. I worry about not living long enough, then I worry about living too long. I worry about standing up, then I worry about falling down.

It is in my nature to worry. In my work I was almost always the designated worrier. I do it so well. Yet in so many cases it is pointless. So much of what I worry about is stuff I cannot change through worry. So much of what I can change, I don't change through worry but through action. And yet I worry, about everything.

Dealing with the divorce, the costs of lawyers and courts, the time and trouble... it all adds to the stress and anguish of living. My soon-to-be-ex-wife's strategy of perpetual delay after delay, her destructive scorched earth approach, causes me untold grief. I worry about the things she says to my children. I worry about money. I worry about my health. When I look ahead I see a dire financial future, a dire emotional future, a dire physical future. When I look into tomorrow it is a very dark place. I am consumed with worry.

It is on days like this that suicide looks like a viable option. The problem is that if I take my own life, I can see my ex-wife telling my children "See. I told you your father was mentally unstable." She will tell them I have abandoned them once again, for death is the ultimate abandonment and I chose it willingly. This disease is very depressing, and so is worrying about it.

You have to be strong to deal with this disease. You have to be strong when the doctor looks you in the face and says you have 36 months to live. You have to be strong when you get your monthly score and it is lower every month. You have to be strong when you lose your feet, your legs, your mobility, your independence and dignity. It takes strength to keep living with ALS.

Some days I am stronger than others. Some days the rain seems like it will never stop. Some days it is easy to think there will never be sun again, never will the skies clear. Some days I worry, a lot. It saps my strength.